by Zoey Parker
As they stood together, watching, there was a sudden loud and steady beep. It came from one of the machines hooked up to Marcus. On the heart monitor, there was only a flat line.
Rowan looked at Nate and Jameson in horror and his heart leapt to his throat. Seconds later, several nurses and doctors rushed in. They shoved them out of the way. The guys went to the other side of the room to stand with the women, since that side was closer to the door and had slightly more room. They stood close together, huddled in a watchful dismay, to give the medical staff space to work.
A nurse took out paddles, rubbed some goo on them, and pushed them against Marcus’s chest to shock him. His whole body jumped with the electricity. Rowan had to look away. He looked instead at Becca. Her eyes were wild with fear. He heard the sounds of the machine booting up and they shocked him again. Several times, they tried. They worked and shouted commands back and forth. But after several minutes, they stopped. The room fell eerily quiet. He heard someone say, “Call it,” and he refused to think about what that meant.
It had all happened too fast. Just a minute ago, they were standing around his body. His still, but alive body. Could they be done working on him already? They’d given up far too soon. There had to be more they could do. He looked from Nate to Jameson. Did they agree? Did they think this was outrageous that the medical staff was done working already? How long had it been? A minute or two? They should give it at least a half hour. An hour even. This was his friend. Didn’t they know how important he was to them?
One of the doctors walked over to the group of onlookers. His face was tight, and sweat glistened on his forehead. “I’m sorry,” he said. “He’s passed.”
“What?” Rowan said. “You’re done working on him already? You gave up too soon!”
Rowan wanted to clock the guy. As if Nate sensed this, he stepped closer to Rowan, to put himself between him and the doctor.
“I’m sorry. We did everything we could,” the doctor said. “But after forty minutes, there’s really nothing else we can do.”
Forty minutes? It hadn’t been anywhere near that long, had it? He looked at his phone. The text he’d sent to Ricky, the one telling him Marcus was still hanging in there, said it was sent forty-five minutes ago. And that had been a very short time before Marcus’s heart had stopped.
So that was it. Marcus was really gone. They had worked on him for a long time. They’d done everything they could, but there was just no saving him.
He heard Kara screaming. Someone—Jameson, maybe?—went to her and caught her before she fell to the ground. Rowan saw nothing except Marcus’s body, lying still on the bed, hooked up to tubes and wires and not breathing at all. The flat line still ran across the heart rate monitor. A nurse pulled a sheet up over his face.
Rowan kept watching. Waiting for Marcus to sit up and throw the sheet back. Waiting for him to wake up and walk out of there.
Jameson got Kara out of the room. Becca fell back into the chair, silent tears running down her face as she rocked Emma back and forth. Nate and Rowan looked at each other, both full of shock. They stared at each other for a long time, not saying anything. Not knowing what to say.
Marcus was really dead? Gone forever? It seemed impossible. Rowan had gone into the house to save him. He’d pulled him out of the fire. He couldn’t be dead. After all he’d gone through to make sure he lived. He had to wake up. There was no other option.
He looked at Marcus’s body again. The form under the sheet didn’t move. One of the nurses remained, unhooking things from him discreetly. When she was done, she went to them and said gently, “Why don’t you all go home and try to rest? There’ll be a lot to do in the next few days.”
Rowan nodded absently. But they couldn’t just leave. Just leave and Marcus would stay there? He’d never come home. He’d never get up and walk out of there.
Rage flared up in him for an instant, but it was quickly extinguished. They’d killed the guys responsible for this. They were all dead. They’d gotten their revenge already. Marcus’s death was avenged.
But knowing that did nothing to ease the pain he felt. Like he’d said before, their death wouldn’t undo Marcus’s, much as he wished it could. To think he’d never see Marcus again, sitting there in his Rebels jacket during one of their meetings. Beating the pants off everyone at darts. Drinking everyone under the table. Then puking his guts out later. He’d never see him zoom off on his obnoxious yellow bike. Never see him kiss Kara again. Had they planned to get married? Maybe they’d talked about it. Maybe Marcus was going to propose.
He tried to imagine what Kara was feeling right now. Probably the same way he’d feel if something had happened to Becca. She was standing by his side. Her shoulder brushed against his. She leaned over and kissed his cheek.
He closed his eyes and felt a tear splash down his face. Marcus was really gone. And there was nothing else they could do for him now.
Rowan looked at Nate. “Tell Ricky. Tell the guys.”
Nate nodded.
Rowan hugged him. A full-on hug, unlike their usual one-armed bro hug. It lasted several seconds longer, too. Then, when they’d separated, Rowan put his hand on Becca’s back and guided her toward the door. Kara and Jameson were in the hall. Kara was slumped against Jameson, sobbing. Rowan bent and hugged her and Jameson.
“We’ll talk tomorrow,” Rowan said to them. “Kara, we’ll help you take care of everything. Try to get some rest tonight. Call me if you need anything.”
He and Becca, who still held the sleeping Emma, walked out of the hospital and to her car.
Chapter 16
The drive to her apartment was silent. Becca didn’t know what to say to him. “Sorry” felt cheap and worthless. She hadn’t known Marcus, but he was Rowan’s friend. And they had obviously been fairly close. She reached over after a while and turned on the radio, keeping the volume very low.
She could not imagine what he was feeling now. At least they’d taken care of Abram’s guys who were responsible. But that had to be little consolation. She’d never had a friend or anyone close to her die, but the pain she felt imagining Rowan’s pain was strong, and it was only a hint, a mere ghost of the pain that must be raging inside him right now.
All she wanted to do was find a way to make him feel better. It likely wouldn’t even be possible, but she’d give it her best shot. She would comfort him any way she could, take care of him however she could. Help him however she could. Anything to lessen his pain. And, really, in the end, all that she could do for him was give him time and space to grieve. And just be there for him.
She reached over and took his hand, squeezing it as if to remind him she was still here. Was still grateful for him and wanted him and loved him. She would tell him soon. She’d thought at first it was too soon. Who fell in love that quickly? But after all they’d been through, she had no other word to describe how she felt. Gratitude wasn’t enough. Longing and joy didn’t even cover it. There was only love. She loved him and she would spend her life loving him and giving him everything she could. If she could take his pain now, take it and absorb it and make it her own, she would.
She guessed she should be feeling something about Nick. She had married him. Been his wife for years. Had a child with him. But she didn’t feel loss. Every time she pictured his dead body, there was only relief. She didn’t have to run. Didn’t have to be afraid he’d show up. Didn’t have to worry about him coming after her and dragging her back and making her be his again. She would never have to go back to that horrible life. Never. And her life with Rowan could start free and clear with no worry of retribution. No wondering what would happen if Nick showed up and found out she were with him. If that had happened, no doubt he would have tried to kill Rowan.
But she didn’t have to think about that anymore. Nick was gone. Gone forever. Dead. Burned up in that house. He couldn’t hurt her or Emma or anyone else. Would Emma be sad about it ever? Would she ever wonder about her dad and miss the chance to get
to know him? She had asked if Rowan could be her new daddy. Would that relationship be enough to erase what Nick had done? Could Rowan feel like a real father to her? Or would there always be something missing?
Becca’s mind spun, but the thoughts were getting stuck together. She was so tired. She concentrated on staying awake to drive. Finally, they turned onto her street. Her apartment building had never looked so good. She parked and shut off the car. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. Her limbs were heavy and hard to move. But she pulled herself from the car and went around to open Emma’s door.
Rowan was already there, though. He had unbuckled her and lifted Emma out. Holding Emma in his arm with his uninjured hand, he followed her to the building’s door and up the stairs and waited while she unlocked the door. Then he carried Emma to her room.
Becca pulled back the covers, and he laid her gently down. She pulled off her shoes and made sure Cuddles was tucked tight to her chest. Then she kissed her forehead and pulled up the blanket before leaving the room.
When they were alone in the hallway, Rowan drew her close. He held her for a long time, saying nothing. Then he kissed her for a long time. “Becca.” He looked into her eyes, his glimmering with tears. “I love you.”
Her eyes widened and she opened her mouth to speak. He put a finger to her lips, keeping her quiet while he talked.
“I know it seems fast, but I’ve never felt like this about anyone. I want to be with you always. You bring me comfort and joy. Nothing feels as good as just being in your presence. I’m sorry about everything that happed the other day. That feels like months ago. But I’m sorry for the things I said to you. I know you think I’m violent and I guess this whole day didn’t help at all, but I just want to love you and protect you. Abram’s gone now and his MC is gone. I’m not normally this violent. Let me show you I’m not like Nick. Let me prove it to you.”
He caressed her cheek with his good hand, his injured hand resting gently at her back. His eyes were wild with emotion.
She closed her eyes for moment, then took a breath and opened them. “It’s kind of funny, actually, that you would say that.” She paused to kiss him. “I was just thinking earlier that I wanted to tell you I love you, but I thought you’d think it was too soon. I do, though. I love you. I never should have assumed you were like Nick just because you have an MC. You’re nothing like him. I know that now. I’m sorry we had to go through all this before I could see it.”
Rowan’s mouth stretched into a slow smile. “Really? You love me?”
“I really do.” She giggled and kissed him again.
“You make me so happy.” He wrapped her in a tight hug. “I never want to let you get out of these arms again.”
“Then don’t. Please don’t.”
“But what about everything you said? I want to make sure this isn’t just the high after the fight, you know?” He pulled back so he could look her in the eye. “Is my lifestyle too violent and too illegal for you?”
Becca let out a long sigh. “Well, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. Obviously, I’m not happy that you steal and do unethical and illegal things for money. But, Emma and I lived off Nick’s money for years and nothing he did was legal, so I guess I figure, how can I complain when clearly it didn’t matter to me before?”
“Wait a second. If it bothers you, I want to know. Don’t just say you don’t have a right to complain and brush it off. You have a right to be bothered by it.”
“Okay.” She looked away from him for a moment, then looked back once she had gathered her thoughts. “I guess it does bother me. But if it’s not something you can change, I can live with it.”
Rowan pulled his mouth to the side in thought. “I wouldn’t say it couldn’t be changed. I just don’t know how easily. And it would likely mean a lot less money.”
“I know. And I think that’s part of the reason I was okay with Nick doing it. When I figured out the difference he would make, we couldn’t afford to live our lifestyle. I hate to say that, though, and it feels really wrong to say it. Emma and I don’t need a ton of money. We had that and it wasn’t worth it. I’d rather have less than have to worry about you going to jail all the time. And that’s really the biggest problem. What if you get caught? What am I going to do if you go to jail for a long time?”
He wove his fingers between hers and let their hands swing back and forth. “I never had a reason to worry about that before. When it was just me, it didn’t matter much if I got locked up. I’d make bail, get a lawyer, and be done with it. But if we have a family…it would kill me to leave you alone like that. With no income and no one to protect you.”
“And not to mention no you. The worst part would be being without you every day.”
He smiled and kissed her. “You make me want to go straight. And no one has ever made me want that before. It might not be fast, and I might not cut all activity right away, but I’ll work on it. I want to be able to provide for you and keep you safe. And I can’t do either if I’m locked up.”
“I want you to be happy, though. I’d hate to see you get a job you can’t stand and be miserable all the time and hate me for it.”
“No.” He shook his head. “If I’m with you, it’ll all be worth it. And I’d be doing it for our family. How could I ever regret that?”
“Our family,” she repeated, and smiled.
Was he really so ready to take care of her and Emma like that? Really ready to be a father to Emma? She didn’t have one at all now. The thought made Becca a tiny bit sad, despite knowing how terrible of a father Nick had been and how desperately Becca had worked to get her away from him. Emma’s father was dead. He had no chance now to change and become a better man. He couldn’t come back into her life at a later time and get to know her. She would forget him. She would never really know her father.
But, for whatever bitterness that brought, the sweetness was in knowing he couldn’t hurt her. Having a father who hit you and put a gun to your head wasn’t worth having at all. Emma didn’t need someone who would endanger her. Who might have come into her life later and destroyed it. Who might have caused problems or made moves to take her from her mother somehow. They never had to worry about him getting in the way and messing up their happy life. And that made it all worth it.
She didn’t regret it all. Killing Nick hadn’t been easy, but she’d wanted to do it for so long; it felt natural when she pulled the trigger. She’d finally fought back. For all the years she took his crap—his harsh words, his controlling nature, his physical violence, his roughness in bed—she’d finally stepped up and said “no” once and for all. He could never hurt her or anyone else.
If Becca had found out he had a new wife, she would be devastated. Certainly not out of any sort of jealousy. But in knowing he was doing it again. Treating someone else like he’d treated her. Knowing maybe she could have done something to stop it. Called the police on him, stood up to him, anything to keep him from repeating his pattern. Well, now she had. He would never be able to do another person damage in any way.
“I think I get it now,” she said.
Rowan had been holding her close, rubbing her back and swaying side to side gently. Just enjoying each other’s closeness. Now he straightened up to look at her again. “Get what?”
“Why you fight. I guess I always thought it was just a macho thing. You or anyone who gets into a fight has to show their power, prove they’re the bigger man. But it’s so much more than that. That whole fight today was so mixed up in so many things. Abram attacking you, Abram getting mad that you stole business from him in the first place, then them taking Emma and me and the whole Nick thing. You don’t just fight to win; you fight for a purpose. To set the wrong thing right again.” She nodded slowly. “I never saw it like that. I guess because with Nick, I always tried to be right and do everything right that it felt like he only threw his weight and power around because he could—”
“He did. That’s a totally different thing
than a street fight or an MC fight.”
“Exactly. That’s my point. You’re not like that. I might have said I didn’t like that you fought all the time because MCs tend to do that, but it’s not like you just fight for no reason. You were standing up for yourself and your guys, and you were getting back at them for the kidnappings and the fire and for trying to kill you. You were trying to set the wrongs right. And I get it now.”
“So, what does that mean?”
“It means it doesn’t bother me like it did before. I want to learn. I want to be able to shoot and know how to use a gun. I want to be able to fight and defend myself. Maybe if I could fight, something would have been different. Maybe I would have gotten Emma away from them and maybe I could have turned the gun on the gunman who came after me in the parking lot of my apartment the other day. I don’t know. Maybe not. Maybe it wouldn’t change anything, but I’ll feel a lot better knowing I have the ability to defend myself and Emma in case I ever have to.”
“I sure hope you don’t ever have to. I never want anything like that to happen again. But, I’d love to teach you to shoot and fight. There’s nothing wrong with being able to defend yourself and not needing to. But if you need it and don’t have the training, that’s when you get into trouble.”